the dog days are over
by Petrichor in May
Summary: "Mama," Sting said thickly, through the tightness in his throat and the salt in his eyes. "I swear, we'll make sure Fairy Tail survives." In which the twin dragon slayers of Fairy Tail go back. Sting-and-Rogue-centric, AU
1. Prologue

**AN: you know that twin paradox dragon slayers theory going around a while back? i combined that with my love of time travel and of sting and rogue, and got this. might end up being a chapter fic, we'll see. inspired by miss mungoe.**

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This is what you recall-

_A blond man kneels before you, his whole form crackling with electricity. His coat is ragged and his clothes are in rags, a scar across his left eye to match his right, a cauterized stump hanging from his right shoulder where they had to hack it off to keep death at bay._

_"We've lost too many of our family," he says, gripping your shoulder firmly with a scarred palm before turning away to face the approaching onslaught. "Go on and get them back."_

_-you see him immolated in white-hot flame and dancing lightning, still fighting even as he burns in the night-_

_A blue-haired woman stands proud, black dress torn and back exposed. Countless bleeding slashes crisscrossing her body heal over as she takes a swig from a water bottle, from what little is left to her. On her thigh, exposed and bleeding, lays a blue emblem in the shape of a fairy._

_"Auntie is counting on you," She tells you, wet tears staining your shirts as she hugs you both, the monsters only a few miles away as she lets you go. "Save our guild. We believe in you."_

_-her fluid body is steaming in the heat and she lashes out with a whip of water, face set in grim resolve-_

_A shirtless man summons ice to his hands, black hair dusted with grime and ash. His bare chest reveals barely-healed scars and fresh wounds, blood covering the dark symbol over his heart. He ruffles your hair fondly with four cold fingers and a stump._

_"Make your old man proud, bless his charcoal-headed soul," he grins, standing with his back to you, pride emanating off him for his two nephews who will change the future. "We'll hold them off, now go!"_

_-he fires off another blast of ice as crimson blood oozes out onto wet dirt, fire in his eyes and frost at his fingertips-_

_A woman in chipped armour places a well-worn and well-cared blade in your hands, the bloodstains on her matching crimson hair. The battered blade clutched in her own hand fades away, another appearing in its place, a scrap of black cloth tied around her stump of a right arm._

_"Never back down." She breathes quietly to you, an oath you both swear to before she stands to go and face the demons, a sword in her hand and a blade between her teeth, compensating for a missing arm. "Never surrender. Carry yourself with pride, because you are children of Fairy Tail. Never forget."_

_-her armour is in shards in the dust as she hacks and slashes away, steely-eyed, burning with desperate determination-_

_A man you know well holds you tight, metal studs set into his scarred face, shaggy black hair wild and held back with a tattered orange headband. Metallic scales creep up his neck and coat his torso, and you cry because you know you're never going to see him again._

_"Stay safe, 'lright? Ain't a world worth saving if you two aren't there with us." He murmurs into your dark hair, soft and gruff at once. He kisses you gently on the forehead, then smirks toothily, knife-sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the slowly rising sun, a chorus of guttural roars echoing through the decrepit hall, dust drifting from the rafters as the earth trembles. He ignores it all in favor of telling you without a shred of doubt in his mind: _

_"Get going, kiddoes. You've got a world to save."_

_The light of Eclipse shines behind you._

_"No turning back, you two. Go kick some ass."_

_-you hear the screams of the monsters as they charge at your uncle, his prideful cackle, and the sounds of scales meeting steel-_

_You don't look back._

This is what you remember, as the world whirls around you in a blinding cacophony of light and sound and heat, when the only constant is your best friend's rough fingers tight around your own. Then it stops.


	2. 1) happiness

_**AN: This will be a short drabblish sort-of series. Don't expect any super-long 5k word chapters here. I'm just writing this for fun and because my interest in this has been newly restored.**_

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"Sting. Hey, Sting, wake up."

The boy groaned and rolled over, flailing blindly at the source of his discomfort, and it might have been the apocalypse but it was still too frickin' early for this shit, damnit all. "Whaaaat," he moaned, feeling the sunlight piercing with scorching brightness through his eyelids, but he didn't feel like moving his hands up so he simply rolled over once more, laying face down. The scent of green grass pervaded his nostrils, fresh and new and singing of spring and small creatures and life all around.

Two hands nudged him, a familiar voice speaking in his ear, hoarse and slightly in awe. "Sti-ing, Steeeeeeeng, dang it Jude Dragneel get up you lazy ass and look."

The sheer awe in the other's tone and the use of his actual first name made him crack blue eyes open from his cozy place of shade. He raised his head, wincing as the light hit him like a train, and blinked rapidly, blurs of brightness resolving themselves into figures and shapes. Clear blue skies and white fluffy clouds carried aloft by the wind, which blew gently through the earth below, sending the leaves above rustling and murmuring like ancient forest spirits and making the dappled light dance on the grassy floor. Birdsong and animal calls and the rushing of river water invaded his ears, high and low and blending together in nature's melody.

This was so much more brighter than he was used to, all clean colours and beautiful scenery and untouched nature: pure, untainted, clean. Untouched by the black wrath of Acnologia, unscorched by dragonfire and malice, unmarred by battle wounds and scars dug deep into the earth...

"Ryos, where the hell is this place?" Sting found himself speaking, voice hoarse and dry from thirst and hunger. "It's beautiful," he murmured in awe. "Holy shit, we need to find the others and show them-"

_-never give in never give up keep your head high we'll get through this fine whispers the woman with hair the colour of sunlight from the old world- _

_-don't worry everything's gonna be fine says the man with salmon-pink hair and fire-bright eyes, says the man with knife-teeth and steel for skin- _

_-lightning water steel ice iron burning boiling bloodied battered beaten down but never surrender because we are- _

"Fairy Tail," he breathed, and suddenly he felt very much like crying, because what good is a new world if his family wasn't here to share it with them?

The response he received was in the form of a comforting warmth against him, ragged clothes and rough skin and hands he'd held a million times running from the monsters in the night (and day) that were all too real. "Hey, Stupid Sting." Ryos blinked his dark red eyes, shadow-stained hair framing a pale face, calloused palms covering his own, toughened up from a lifetime of running and hiding and fighting. He'd reverted to that vitriolic nickname, and it was comforting in this strange, breathtakingly alien new world to have a living, breathing, person-sized chunk of familiarity beside him. "Isn't it great?"

Sting nodded, and grinned, despite the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. It was so bright and gorgeous and what they had always wanted, and all he could think of was that his parents would never get to see this sight again (_because they're long, long dead, he remembered.) Dammit, don't cry, don't freaking cry, you'll just ruin the moment- _

"It's okay, you know," Ryos, stupid freaking Astraios Redfox with his kind eyes and tear tracks glistening in the sunlight, smiled at him. "I cried too."

Sting let his wobbly smile break and let hot tears cascade down his dusty cheeks, washing away the ashes of the old world. Ryos pulled him into a tight hug as he shuddered silently, muffling sobs into the other's shoulder, and if he wasn't mistaken he could feel his best friend tearing up a little too. In the sunlight, they clutched each other, grateful to be alive, mourning those left behind.

Then they leant back at the same time, crystal blue eyes meeting sharp red ones, both blurred by the water still streaming down, and they smiled at each other. Sting got up, feeling the ache of his fatigued muscles and weary bones, but it was wiped away in the face of this new, shining, sparkling world.

"What're we doin' mopin' around?" Sting shook his head, his sunny blonde hair catching the light and making it glow. "The guild wouldn't want us to be so sad."

He extended a hand to Raios and grinned bright as the sun above, youth shining through on his face. The dark-haired boy laughed softly, took the offered hand, and was pulled to his feet, standing in the grass.

"C'mon, Raios," the golden boy laughed happily. "Let's go exploring!"

Hand in hand, they set off, bare feet on earth and grass and crackling leaves, ready to discover this brave new world together.

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AN: Fan consensus is that Sting's original name in this crack theory is Jude, after Lucy's dad. Here, Sting used to get called Jude, but earned the new nickname of Sting for his quick and powerful punches. 'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.'


End file.
